Our Violence - TMNT Raphael x Reader
by Primary No
Summary: After a rough day at work, you want nothing less than to deal with Raphael's rude behaviour towards you. However, things escalate faster than you'd anticipated and you end up alone in the worst situation that you could have ever imagined. How will your relationship with the red-wearing turtle evolve? And what scars will be left behind?
1. Lachrymal Frustrations

Hi! My name's Primary No and this is the first story I've ever published online. I'm a French student studying English and therefore wrote this in a rush that probably doesn't make a whole lot of sense - please forgive me for the mistakes you will find, and if you feel like pointing them out to me, I'd be more than happy to correct them!

Enjoy this silly little fantasy of mine, and feel free to offer criticism, it's always welcome! ∠( ᐛ 」∠)_

* * *

Raphael wasn't a very calm person, that was one of the most obvious things in the world. So when you see that he is losing his patience, it is fairly obvious that the best thing to do is just ignore him, let him hit something to avoid being the punching bag yourself.

That was something that you, dear _, seemed to have forgotten, and the price that you paid was the unwanted reward for that.

You see, when you woke up this morning, you felt like it would be one hell of a bad, horrible, cruel day.

You first started by waking up late, your phone seemingly having forgotten that you had to rise up early because your boss wanted you to help her. You ended up leaving your house in a hurry, your hair a disaster, your stomach empty and chewing some gums packed in your back pockets in order to keep your breath fresh.

In your rush, you lost your metro ticket, missed the metro, had to run to your office and still got grounded by a very angry boss of yours.

The rest of the day had been a disaster, and you were sent home early because you kept on failing everything.

When you got back home, you thought that paying a visit to your friends the turtles would have been a good idea. Maybe Michelangelo could lift up your spirits by playing a game with you, and if you were lucky, Raph wouldn't look at you like you were some munched chewing gum stuck under his ... whatever you call turtles' feet.

But boy were you wrong.

Mikey was already playing on the old game stations with Casey Jones when you got in the lair, and April was discussing with Donatello in his tech room while Leonardo seemed to be meditating, humming to himself like the perfect copy of Splinter he could be. That only left you alone with Raphael that was training in the room.

You said hi to the guys, who all responded in their own personal way. But as you glanced up towards the red bandana wearing turtle, you met a pair of cold green eyes that stared at you, and had to look back to the ground.

Nobody knew why Raphael hated you so much, you never really talked, and the only time when you did he kept on making remarks about how unnecessary your presence was.

Remembering your conversations put your spirits down (if it was even possible anymore) and you simply sat on the edge of the couch, silently watching Mikey and Casey play, talk, pinch each other to try to distract their adversary and basically be the kids they truly were deep down despite their adulthood now finally reached.

Your attention was attracted by a grunt coming from Raph, as he tried to perform some sort of attack in the air but kept landing on his wrong foot.

You, being enerved by that, suddenly spat out without thinking:

"You really like to look ridiculous, don't you?"

Silence fell down upon the room in the second that followed while you realised what you had just muttered.

His form slowly turned towards you, his grip on his sais getting stronger with each of his intakes, shoulders so large they blocked your vision.

"...What?"

Your heart was beating like crazy in your chest and you were pretty sure that even Master Splinter could hear it from his room. You felt adrenaline rise up to the beating organ, giving you a new-found courage that you knew you would regret.

"I said...you really like to look ridiculous, right? I mean, you're always trying to show off your muscles when everybody's in the room... You like to lift, we get it, no need to be such an attention who-".

You stopped yourself from speaking more as you realised what you were about to say.

You couldn't have finished your sentence anyway because the second after, you were pinned against a wall by a strong hand, that was followed by the angriest glare you had ever seen.

Leo quickly appeared behind Raphael and yanked him off of you, your body landing on hard ground.

"What do you think you're doing?!

-Shut your mouth Leo! She's the one who said I was ridiculous!"

Leo turned towards you to ask if his brother was right, but you were already gone in the sewers, fast on your feet.

* * *

All characters belong to their rightful owners, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laid, and the Main Character belongs to you!


	2. Bloody Struggles

Here's the second chapter of my fanfic! Everything has been pre-written in advance up until the fifth chapter - please do not mind, however, the many mistakes that are there and the varying length of them. They were all written a long time ago and were never proof-read up until now so a lot of errors are going to be present!

DISCLAIMER: This story contains VIOLENCE, NON-CON RAPE, ANGST and SEVERE INJURIES. Please proceed with caution.

Feel free to leave a comment if you have enjoyed it and/or want to offer criticism, it's always welcome! Take care friends!

╰( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° )つ── *:・ﾟ

* * *

You ran in the dark and empty streets of New York, your small purse clutched against your chest.

Your feet seemed to flee you home as the adrenaline in your systems was leading you in the dark alleys, and when you reached your appartment's door, the fear that made that run possible started to change into relief. You were safe at home ... for the moment.

What happened back there? You weren't sure yourself, just that this day had gone horribly wrong and that Raphael's general attitude towards you was not welcome, not today.

You closed the bathroom door behind you and stripped out of your clothes, a dark bruise already forming on your neck, right where the turtle had grabbed you. You winced upon touching it and took some medicine to ease the pain before changing into your pajamas and calling it a day. But you could still feel the dry, leather like palm against your skin, crushing your esophagus, your breath, your incredibly small chances of having fun in the only place where you once could find relief.

Once you were laying on your bed, you felt guilt slowly invading your chest, making your heart ache in sour throbs. Okay, maybe what you said was completly irrelevant and he had done nothing wrong. Maybe you definitely shouldn't have said that. What if he started hating you from now on?

You stopped your train of thoughts at that point.

1: Since when did you care about his opinion on the matter?

2: He already hated you anyway, that outburst earlier changed nothing in your dead relationship.

But your first point truly bothered you. His hatred towards you was unexplained and started at the very first moment you met, it wasn't new. It wasn't unexpected. It never seemed to have been anything else. Your eyes slightly widened.

You just realised.

You had always cared about his opinion. Always.

Because of his attitude, he was the one who took all of your interest, and he usually was the person to whom your eyes were attracted to. You desesperatly wanted to know if there was more than just the constant growls, to the point where you grew more and more attached to him in a painful way.

You rolled in your bed sheets.

This day couldn't get any worst.

.

.

.

You opened your tired eyes on your phone. 4 am. You hadn't slept much for a good month now, your newly found affection eating away the tiredness and letting guilt devour your soul as the hours ticked by in the bat of an eyelash.

Deciding that you had enough of trying to feel relief, you rose from your bed and grabbed a bowl of cereals, munching the pieces of sugar, flour and food coloring mixed together without hunger. You had lost your appetite and most of your energy because of your lack of sleep, and hadn't come back to the lair since that terrible day where you doomed yourself.

April and Casey called you on a regular basis, worried about your state of mind, Mickey basically spammed your texts, and you even received a call from Leo himself, once. The leader tried to convince you to visit them, but you excused yourself by pretending that you had a lot of work.

That was a blablant lie. Your boss saw how miserable you looked and gave you a "three weeks much needed" break, making sure that one of her best workers stayed safely at home rather than ruining her health. It may have been tiring, but you really had the best job in the world.

The cashier thanked you while handing you the change and your bag full of food that you would probably just throw away sooner or later. You offered her a weak smile, the dark circles around your eyes and your pale skin revealing your pitiful state. Not that you cared anyway.

The late nights in New York City were always cold and unwelcome, and your tank top did nothing to stop the wind from hugging your shivering form. You searched in your bag and pulled out a small hand warmer that you heated up rather quickly to warm you up.

Just as you started to walk on a much thinner road with very few lights, you felt a hand grip your arm and pull you towards an even darker and slimer alleyway.

"Seriously? That's very clich-..."

A taser pressed against the skin of your neck and you shut your mouth almost instantly.

In front of you stood a dark figure that smelled like old cigar and bleach, a combination that made you gag in silence. A rough, calloused hand began to slide down your left shoulder and slide over your breast, grabbing it in a painful grip. You squinted your eyes shut in disgust and wished that you could have kicked him right in the nuts, but the taser was there.

His hand released your already bruising breast to grab your waist and go under your pants. You tried to wiggle, but his thumb caressed the trigger button of the weapon and you froze upon hearing the very faint sound of the mechanism activating itself inside.

He slid a finger over your underwear and you felt the violent urge to puke on this man. Remembering what you once heard on the television, you tried to think about happy things to make the whole situation a bit brighter.

A sudden memory of Raph crossed your mind. You had just entered in the lair after a hot day and happened to fall in the middle of a discussion between the red and the orange bandana wearing turtles.

"Bro?

-Yeah?

-What would you do if the Foot captured you and you had no way to escape the room because they have a super plan for everything that you try?

-Now where do you go and find these stupid questions?

-Just answer dude!

-Well... lemme tell you, no matter what, I ain't going down without a fight. Don't care if they have a "super plan" or anything. I'm ready to die if it means that I'll keep my pride."

You contemplated his words, tears starting to leak from your eyes upon remembering how proud he seemed to say that to his brother. He was right. You wouldn't let that creep rape you right here, in a dark cliché street. Not when you were a friend of the turtles.

You felt him push you down towards the ground while he unzipped his pants, and you knew what to do next. Just as he placed his junk in front of your mouth, you advanced your head...and bit with all of your might the flesh in front of you.

The man let out a furious scream and releases the taser off your neck.

That was it! You hurriedly got up and ran towards the beginning of the alleyway, your bag of food tightly secured in your hands...

Until a brutal pain hit you in the back and sent you almost unconscious on the ground.

* * *

All characters belong to their rightful owners, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laid, and the Main Character belongs to you!


	3. Wet Despair

Good morning/day/evening/night! Here is the third chapter, as promised. It's a lot shorter than the first two, but it's more of a bridge towards the rest of the story so I couldn't manage to make it longer. I am terribly sorry about that, and I hope that the rest of the story will be more interesting!

DISCLAIMER: This story contains VIOLENCE, NON-CON RAPE, ANGST and SEVERE INJURIES. Please proceed with caution.

Enjoyyy, and as always, feel free to leave a review, it's always appreciated! (*´∀`*)

* * *

From your blurred,teary vision, you could barely see a pair of feet coming closer to you before a striking pain sent you wheezing for a few seconds. Salty tears builded up in your eyes and silently slid down your pale cheeks as the man hit you again in your ribcage, a sick, twisted grin on his face everytime you let out a plead for mercy. Your voice sounded wrong in your throat but you tried your best to keep it from spilling out about how painful his beating was, a single image forming into your mind: the one of a dark green skinned, red wearing mutant ninja turtle with emerald eyes and a toothy grin full of pride. Ah, yes, you thought as you felt some of your clothes slipping away from your body, you still had to apologize to this stupid idiot that you ended up loving more and more without even fully realizing it.

Just as a dirty hand suddenly grabbed your bra's side, a crunching sound was heard and all traces of weight on you vanished in the blink on an instant. A few shouts were heard here and there around you but your mind couldn't focus, all of your adrenaline had left your brain and you braced yourself for the pain to come instead, crashing on you like a wave.

You could hear shouts and thuds in some distant background, your brain seemingly filled with cotton. Grogginess was starting to overcome you, so much that you couldn't handle the mere idea of thoughts, and therefore not completely realizing what was happening in the background - just the hard, dry clutching of your muscles every time you tried to move and the twitches of your flesh that was still under the effects of the electrical shock you'd received.

A desperate gasp left your throat like a whimper as strong arms rose you from the cold ground where you laid, half covered in clothes, your skin already tainting in hues of blue and purple from the hits that you took. No energy came to you when you wanted to see who your supposed savior was, the only feeling left inside of your core being the blood rushing to your head as your body limped in arms that carried you in places that you couldn't remember seeing before. Had the turtles saved you, or was it someone else? You couldn't care right now.

Whoever was carrying you could do whatever they wanted to you. You didn't seem to care, or perhaps you truly didn't. All hope for safety had flown out of the window of your soul the moment you'd felt the weapon connect with your body through your clothes. However, you couldn't help but notice, in a feverish effort to discern your « savior », that they smelled like the strange chalk that the turtles put on their hands and feet whenever they were sparring, with the subtle fragrance of a musc infused perfume mixed onto it.

Your tears were drying on your cheeks as wind slapped you and you took that as a sign to close your eyes, letting sleep finally take away the pain in your body.

* * *

All of the characters belong to their rightful owners, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laid, and the Main Character belongs to you!


	4. Painful Awakenings

Fourth chapter! A little longer than the previous one (I apologize once again for the length of it), and with some progress on dear Reader's situation. It is filled with angst, but I promise that soon enough it'll get happy! Or will it...? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Once again, please feel free to leave reviews, it's highly appreciated!

DISCLAIMER: This story contains VIOLENCE, NON-CON RAPE, ANGST and SEVERE INJURIES. Please proceed with caution.

* * *

The first sound that you emitted when you felt like you were regaining life was a groan. A sleepy, somewhat quiet groan of someone that refused to leave their bed for school. It was a familiar sound, one you'd produced many times before in the past month, and you were glad to find it back into your life.

As if everything was normal! You would wake up in your bed to the sound of the busy streets, smell the toasts your neighbor had made and feel the sun on your skin!

But there was no sun, and there were no toasts.

Your eyes shot up and then closed instantly when you felt the sting of the neon lights burn your retinas. The groan that followed wasn't quite the same as your first one.

"...ake...!"

A distant voice made you wince some more, a throbbing pain following it behind your skull, and everything around seemed to be ringing in painful noise. Where were you? And what happened? You couldn't remember a thing. You were just tired, in pain, and those damned voice just wouldn't shut up.

"Hey there, shhh no don't move too much, you're alright, it's okay."

Vision. You could see again, this time opening your eyes slowly. Blurs of colors were meeting your vision, blue, purple, and the faintest touch of warmer spots far away. Shining grey things were all around you and-

"Donnie...?"

You would have winced at your own voice had you not been in pain, croaky throat and dry lips cooperating with the hardest of efforts. But you could still see and the green smile that met you was an amazing thing.

"Hello _. How are you feeling?"

"...Like shit."

Your... everything hurt, why? Your skull was a throbbing mess, your throat felt like it was aching for water, and your legs didn't quite felt awake yet.

"That's a story we'll tell you later."

You understood what he meant by that when you started to feel a lot better, after an hour of processing where your limbs were and how your senses worked. You eventually became the human you were once more and reality slapped you right in the consciousness when you remembered where you'd been and what happened.

The clock in the corner showed 2PM. You'd been out cold for the longest time, probably catching up on some of the sleep you'd been missing.

And that's when the real facts hit you. You'd been the victim of a sexual assault from which you barely escaped, and now you were back in the lair, a place you'd been wanting to avoid filled with people that you had been avoiding even harder, especially one, grumpy turtle. Thank God you hadn't seen him yet.

"-There, try walking now."

Two feet on the ground and you launched yourself upwards, surprised, but proud, to see that you didn't wobble at all. You could walk perfectly, meaning you only had one thing left to do and soon enough you would be left alone, and most of all, you would go home.

Yes. You wanted to be away from this place. You wanted to be miles away from anyone and yet, yet you knew, you needed to stay just a bit longer. Don had noticed how you'd lost weight and your skin was more grey than it's original color, making him rant about malnutrition while you listened quietly, feeling highly uncomfortable that you could feel eeryone looking at you through the walls and hearing what he was saying. Yes, you were in horrible shape. You knew that.

"I know that."

Your voice still sounded strange, but you pushed it aside.

"I'm good Donatello, don't worry. I can handle myself."

He looked at you through thick glasses, the worry on his expression, his tone, in his every gesture making your heart ache for lying to him.

"No you don't."

You could almost hear the heartbreak in it implying too many things about how much he truly worried.

You bit your lips.

7PM. Eventually you'd managed to get into the living room with a pale smile on your face as a greeting, getting pinned in a bone crushing hug by an orange wearing turtle you loved dearly and then slightly less painful embraces from your human friends. Leonardo had squeezed your shoulder and smiled back at you, seemingly glad that you were back on your two feet.

Even Splinter came to say hi and look at your dark circles and thin cheekbones with a disapproving glare, which you could only offer a sorry smile for.

But someone else was missing and never came to see how you were doing. And it broke you a bit on the inside, broke whatever was left of your hope. Silly, stupid hope. To say that you had thought he'd been the one that had saved you.

There was no way on Earth.

"You sure you're okay...?"

"Yeah. Night's not out yet and you gave me plenty of food, I'm pretty sure I'm going to gain three kilos through the night."

"..."

Donatello is staring at you with a glance that says everything about how worried he truly is, and the others behind him are holding the same expression, but in slightly less obvious ways. Spared for Mickey. Mickey looks like he's going to chew all of his nails out of his hands.

"And what about-"

"My cab's waiting, no walking, I promise. I'll give you a call when I get back home safely, okay?"

You know it's not what he wanted to ask for but it's all that you can offer him at the moment. No promise for future interactions, no spilling about the way you feel and the psychological help you need.

Just a thankful kiss on his cheek and a general wave, and you're gone. You walk through the sewers that you still know by heart, but your feet are fast, frantically sprinting on the dirty floor, and so is your breathe as you try to hold back the tears that are building up. Thank God that you went alone.

Or so you thought.

* * *

All characters belong to their rightful owners, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laid, and the Main Character belongs to you!


	5. Furious Languish

Good morning/good afternoon/good evening! I am coming back with this chapter that's slightly longer than the previous one, I hope that you will enjoy it! I am very sorry for the delay, but I hope that it will still be read nonetheless (´ε｀；)

Once again, please do remember:

DISCLAIMER: This story contains VIOLENCE, NON-CON RAPE, ANGST and SEVERE INJURIES. Please proceed with caution.

Enjoy! (˶◕‿◕˶✿)

* * *

"Are you sure that it's a good idea master Splinter?"

The old rat slowly finished his last stroke, the graceful kanji on his scroll fresh with black chinese paint. It was only when he put down his brush in its small wooden case that he turned towards his worried sons, an old and wrinkled but happy smile on his face.

"Oh, my sons. I said that she could go home for tonight. I never said she would do so alone."

You broke into a teary mess when you reached halfway through your home, the taxi driver jumping in surprise but not saying anything about it, and got out of the vehicle with puffy red eyes and a sniffling nose. The guy refused your money, seeing that you were going through a rough time, and instead gave you a sympathic smile before driving away.

You'd rarely ever been so grateful to a stranger.

Your bed came in view as an angel in disguise and you fell on it with a sob erupting up your throat, making you cry some more. You'd almost been raped. Had it not been for the guys... You weren't even sure you would have made it out alive. The sparks of the taser were such a fresh memory you could feel it on your back where it'd hit you, and his dick, his stupid, smelly organ-

You held back a gag before it allowed your stomach to spill on the bed. Not cool. Not a good idea. You wiped away the memory before it traumatized you even more.

In your messy sniffles and paralyzed body you hadn't quite heard the sound of your window sliding open, but you did hear, with a striking precision, two footsteps on your wooden floor, just behind your back.

Your heart stopped beating for a second before you reacted and got off your bed in a flash, bedside table lamp in your hand and threatening, puffy, red, wet glare ready to take on the world.

But you didn't attack the intruder. Instead you lowered your weapon in utter confusion and slight, scratch that, intense invading panic as you looked at the dark big shape hidden in the shadows of the walls, the only clue telling you who it was being the glowing emerald eyes and the spot of red contrasting against the green of his skin.

"...Wh..."

You don't know where to start. You're so shocked your throat is dry once more and suddenly you remember the fist that was around it, that almost crushed you, that COULD have killed you in a single gesture. Your hands are shaking and you're sweating out cold. You musn't look very good.

"You look like shit."

Urgh. Here comes the reasons why you'd avoided talking to him altogether while you were still friends with everyone else.

"Thanks. You too."

You sound strangely strong for someone who's had nightmares about this exact guy breaking your heart and your neck at the same time.

He snickers, something rare you haven't seen a lot of times before while hanging out with the team, and moves so that you're both in the light now. But for every step forward he takes, you stumble back. And he doesn't stop.

Your heart's beating so madly in your ribcage you can feel it echoing throughout your entire torso and your hands are so weak they're threatening to let the lamp fall - but you hold on.

With terror and panic, yes, but you hold on.

He looks terribly confused, not that you would know, as all you can see is his usual dark angry face that he always wears whenever he looks at you.

Your back hits the wall and you could have sworn the gasp that you exhaled was louder than the way you'd heard it. He stops on his tracks immediately and lets you breathe again, your shaking form probably indicating how terrified you are.

« I'm not... », he starts, and then snickers, but it has annoyance in its tones. « I'm not here to hurt you, you dumbass. »

He sounds even a bit hurt. You don't give a shit. You're still against the wall, grateful for once to have something to hold against, and you've barely lowered your poor useless lamp. It's not even as big as his biceps, he would crush it with a single flex of his tense, large, heavy muscl-

« I came here to make sure you got home in one piece, alright? So lower that fucking lamp, it won't do shit for you anyway. Jeez you're so ungrateful- I ran all the way there, even followed that fucking cab that can't drive around for no shit, and that's how you thank me? Wow, no thanks. »

He stomps back angrily and lets himself fall down on your bed, the hinges squeaking in a hushed plead for mercy. He must weight a lot more than you ever have, no wonder the poor thing has trouble holding him up.

« ...I didn't ask you to stalk me. I'm fine. »

His eyes rolled back towards you and a single glance gets you to shut up before you can tell him to « oh so kindly fuck off ».

« Yeah, right. Look, if you ain't gonna thank me, I might as well go. Don't got no time for crybabies. »

Your blood boiled and you put the lamp on a sidetable.

« Excuse you? Crybaby?! Do you even- do you- »

Oh no here come the tears.

« I've- God fucking damnit it's all your fault to begin with! »

He sits straight up on your bed, threatening posture challenging you to continue despite the obvious violence he might execute, and you actually do, your throat aching in fear.

« What the actual fuck?! My fault?! »

« Yes, your fault! You've always hated me so much, I never did anything wrong! Alright?! I never did! I've always tried to help you out, I've- I gave my money and time to help you guys- I have a life too and I gave it away, and all I get is- »

« FUCK YOU! »

He bolts off the bed which makes you back up in utter fear and slams violently his hands against the wall where you end up crashing, legs trembling like never before and eyes watering with fear and anger while he spits at your face.

« I FUCKING SAVED YOUR ASS YOU UNGRATEFUL PIECE OF SHIT! I NEVER SHOULD HAVE! »

Your eyes widen.

His do too.

« Wait, I- »

You slip out of his sight in a nano second and run for your toilets, locking the door behind you right after you slam it in his face, not listening to the words he's uttering.

« GET OUT! »

It comes as a screech, voice broken and furious tears spilling.

There's silence, then a thud, and a slight noise as your window clicks shut.

You end up spending the night hunched over your toilet.

* * *

All characters belong to their rightful owners, Kevin Eastman and Peter Laid, and the Main Character belongs to you!


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